


Waiting For a Command

by Sassy_Dinosaur



Series: My Name is Blue [7]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blue's First Supply Run, Comforting Blue, Daryl's Motorcycle, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Grumpy Rick, Hurt Blue, Men Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scared Daryl, emotionally hurt Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassy_Dinosaur/pseuds/Sassy_Dinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I listen for a command; Run or attack, stay or go, live or die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello or Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, sorry it's been so long guys!
> 
> Blue's POV

I’m practically shaking with excitement when Daryl pulls up on his motorcycle. Today is the day Daryl finally is taking me on a supply run. Granted, Michonne, Rick, and are coming too, but today is my first time coming with them. I’m so excited!

 

Daryl stops the bike a few feet away from me and shuts it off. He yawns as he slides off the motorcycle.

 

“You tired, Daryl?” Michonne asks with a joking tone. Her own voice sounding tired. Her eyes droop slightly, revealing just how tired she is.

 

“Shud’ up” Daryl mock grumbles to Michonne before hiding another yawn with the back of his hand. I can’t help but let out a chuckle at the two.

 

From behind us, Rick’s boots clomp on the concrete. His stride is longer and faster than most in the prison, but the clomp of his boots gives him away. By the volume of the stomps, I can tell he’s angry, what about, I don’t know.

 

“Michonne, let's get goin’,” He says with power in his voice, something really pissed him off. For a split second Rick glares at me out of the corner of his eye, but before I can call him out on it he’s barking at Daryl. “You know where to go?” Daryl barely gets out a nod before Rick gets into the truck Michonne had walked to moments before.

 

“We’re not going to the same place as them?” I ask Daryl with hopefulness. I think it goes unnoticed.

 

“Yeah” Daryl says with a nod, “They’re goin’ to a gas station, we’re gonna clear out a house.” he continues while sliding back onto his bike. When he’s situated, Daryl motions for me to get on.

 

I get on smoother than I did the last time. Granted, the last time I was on this bike was months ago and at the time I was almost dead… Either way. I get on smoothly and wrap my arms around Daryl’s middle. Daryl hands me his crossbow, telling me to put it on; so I do. Then proceed to wrap my arms around him again.

 

The wind picks up just as we’re about to leave. I’m thankful I decided to wear the plaid flannel and leather jacket Carol had rationed to me when the weather started getting colder. Under the jacket, I have on a plain, faded, grey baseball shirt. I’m also wearing a pair of, too big, grass stained jeans and black converse. 

 

Poking out from under the jacket is the handle of the utility hammer. Merle and Daryl had given me so I had a weapon that didn’t require bullets. Well, that and a splintered baseball bat. I feel Daryl shiver, I think he’s also thankful for wearing an extra layer today. He’s wearing his poncho, a long sleeve shirt, and faded jeans, his grease rag smashed between him and the bike seat.

 

Strapped to the front of the bike are our backpacks and my baseball bat.

 

When Daryl starts the bike I can feel it through my entire body and through Daryl’s where my arms are wrapped around him. The truck Michonne’s in starts moving forward, showing that it’s time to go.

 

\----

 

The wind whips through my ponytail as Daryl’s bike zig-zags through the carnage that used to be a small town in Georgia. The town isn’t big enough to be put on the major cities map; it used to hold less than a thousand people. Now it’s just carnage.

 

At some point, Daryl moves in front of Rick and Michonne. Daryl’s arm stretches out to the side, signaling Rick or Michonne that we’ll be turning off soon. As we turn into a trashed neighborhood I look over my shoulder, the truck doesn’t turn too. Michonne is in the passenger seat, looking right at me. When she’s just about to drift out of my line of sight I wave to her. To my surprise, she waves back.


	2. Run or Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My stomach drops when I hear a scratchy growl from behind me. I hadn’t expected it to be this close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue's POV

The house we park in front of is old looking, but so is everything nowadays. It’s missing shingles on the roof and the paint is chipping. Out of the entire neighborhood, this house looks the most stable. I can’t tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

 

Daryl says something to me, but I’m too preoccupied in the scenery to process it.

 

My eyes land on a beat-up Camaro. It looks untouched. Well, that is, apart from the missing tires and broken windshield. The car is barely rusted. I wonder if it has any gas left in it? Before I can think about it too much or say anything, Daryl’s hand is waving in front of my face. My eyes meet his, they hold an expectant and playful look.

 

“Ya’ in there’?” he asks with a chuckle; clearly taking some amusement in my spacing-out.

 

“What? You say something?” A smile is on my face as I ask the question.

 

Daryl chuckles, shaking his head slightly before he answers me. “Yeah, ya’ comin’?” He nods towards the house we’re parked in front of. I take another look at the house before sliding off the bike. I notice something; all of the windows are broken and the front door is missing.

 

“Daryl,” I say casually “Here you go,” I say as I pull the crossbow off my back and hand it to Daryl. He grunts a ‘thanks’ and hands me my backpack. Daryl wraps my shoulders in a one armed hug, chuckling together, as we walk to the doorless house’s porch.

 

When we a few feet from the porch Daryl asks, “Ya got your hammer?” I answer with a ‘mmhmm’. Daryl grunts in response once we get to the house’s porch.

 

Both of us get into our ready stances. Daryl’s crossbow is pressed into his shoulder. Shoulders square. Knees bent slightly. My hammer is in my dominant hand and my bat is, ready to grab, poking out of the top of my backpack.

 

I listen for a command; run or attack, stay or go.

 

“Stay behind me,”Daryl commands with a stern look in his eye. He resembles Merle when he does this. With the stock of his crossbow pressed into his shoulder he enters the house cautiously, I follow.

 

Once inside I realize this house is a lot smaller than it appears. Thankfully, there are no stairs for something, or someone, to come and get the drop on us.

 

“Ya with me?” Daryl asks without looking. His attention is mainly on a knocked over coffee table with a missing leg. He kneels only a few feet from me, our only barrier is a ratty couch.

 

“Yeah, I’m with you” I chuckle nervously, trying to cover up how scared I am. I’m not scared of the danger or potential death, but of being alone with Daryl; not in a bad way. It’s just this unspoken understanding. An unbreakable bond that is yet to be acknowledged, but has been tested more times than I can count. Daryl looks at me with a smile that instantly fades, his eyes fill with fear and panic.

 

My stomach drops when I hear a scratchy growl from behind me. A foul smelling hand grabs my shoulder. I hadn’t expected one to show up so soon. With two hands on the hammer's handle, I swiftly turn around while swinging the hammer high. 

 

My hammer connects with a rotting shoulder, making the walker stumble to the left. The walker recovers almost instantly and starts limping towards me again. I drop my hammer and reach for my bat, but before I can one of Daryl’s arrows goes through the walker's temple. It falls, landing only inches from my feet.

 

I turn my head to look at Daryl. His eyes are filled with tears. His hands are shaking wildly and his breaths are uneven. I’ve never seen him look this... scared?

 

I walk around the couch to Daryl. His crossbow clatters on the wooden floor when I get him. I can’t think of anything to say, so I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. Daryl wraps his arms tight around my shoulders; almost too tightly.

 

A sob makes his body shake, but no sound comes out. Without saying anything, in the middle of the broken down house, we hold each other for what feels like hours before Daryl whispers:

“I can’t lose ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is what Daryl was thinking when the walker attacked Blue


	3. Get it Together Dixon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl’s POV of what happened in Attack or Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daryl's POV

“Ya with me?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I can hear her short, curious, breaths and her questioning footsteps. The coffee table is empty and, in general, a piece of shit. The barrier between us is a ratty couch with its springs poking through the cushions and I still feel like Blue's too far away. Not close enough. Not safe enough.

 

“Yeah, I’m with you” Blue sounds nervous and scared. It hurts to know that she scared, but it hurts more to not know what’s scaring her too. I can’t protect her if I don’t know what’s scaring her.

 

With a smile on my lips, I turn to Blue. What I see makes the whole world stop momentarily.

 

A walker is right behind Blue. She hasn’t noticed it yet. The fucker is limping towards her; I can smell it’s rotting flesh from here. It lets out a growl and Blue’s body goes rigid. I stand as all emotion, other than fear, is wiped from her face.

 

The walker grabs her shoulder and Blue screams, a blood churning scream. My stomach flips with fear.

 

_'Get it together Dixon!’_

 

Blue swings her hammer at the walker, making it stumble. It doesn’t fall. Tears flood my line of sight as I aim for the walkers head. A shaky breath of relief forces it’s way out of my throat when the walker falls at her feet. My arrow through its temple.

 

Blue whips her head to the side to look at me. Her ponytail hits her on the side of the face. Her eyes are glazed over as she looks in my tear filled eyes. I can feel my hands shaking uncontrollably at my sides, the crossbow is hitting my legs every few seconds.

 

_'Get it together Dixon!’_

 

Blue all-but runs around the ratty couch to me when I let the crossbow fall to the floor loudly. To my surprise, she didn’t flinch at the sound. Blue looks like she wants to say something, but can’t seem to find the words.

 

Blue wraps her arms around my back with her face pressed into my chest; I can hear her quiet sniffles echo in this shitty house. The tears in my eyes fall and run down my cheeks; sobs making my entire body shake, but no sound comes out.

 

Blue and I stand in silence for only a few minutes and all I can think is:  _‘I can't lose you’..._

_‘I can't lose you’...  
_

_‘I can't lose you’...  
_

_‘I can't lose you’...  
_

_‘I can't lose you’..._

 

I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until it’s too late to take the words back.

 

“I can’t lose you.”


	4. Stay or Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blues POV

The moment was cut short by the sound of loud engines approaching. Men's voices, gruff voices, cheered and yelled as they rode towards the house Daryl and I are in. I looked to him for what to do. His eyes were still wide and red-rimmed, but now there was something I couldn’t quite put a label on.

 

We had nowhere to run, but deeper into the falling apart house. They men had stopped outside and started getting off their bikes. I quickly realize this is their camp. Daryl and I moved quickly, but carefully, as not to disrupt anything and make the men aware of our presence in their territory. Daryl grabs his arrow from the walker's skull before we run to the back of the house.

 

At the back of the house was a small room full of couches and chairs, all stained and torn. Daryl pulls me into the room. He seemed to be looking for a way out. There was a window in the room, but it was nailed shut. We were trapped.

 

Heavy footsteps on the rickety living room floor made my heart stop momentarily. The men sounded drunk, all laughing at something. Their footsteps sounded like they were stumbling.

 

One of the couches was pushed away from the wall, in the corner. It looked big enough for a person or two. Quickly, I pull Daryl towards the couch and he seems to understand. He carefully climbs over the back of the couch then helps me over.

 

Just in time, I get over the back of the couch. It's taller than I thought it was. The small space is cramped with the two of us, our backpacks, and weapons with us. We make it work, we had to. I hear one of the men stumble into the room, then a loud thump, then snoring. A few of the others laugh at their passed out buddy.

 

I turn to Daryl and mouth, “What now?” He just shakes his head and shrugs slightly.


	5. Live or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still Blue's POV

I don’t know how we haven’t been heard or spotted yet, but I’m thanking every mythical god I can think of for it. It’s been about three hours since the men showed up. All but one are asleep, from what Daryl tells me. He says we’ll make a run for it when the drunk is incapacitated.

 

After another twenty minutes or so, Daryl and I hear one final loud thump. We can finally leave. Daryl stands up slowly, checking to see if the coast is clear. He whispers my name and motions for me to stand too. While being extremely careful, Daryl helps me over the back of the couch. Daryl steps over and takes the lead.

 

Together we walk out the door and back into the disgusting living room. Men, at least fifteen, are passed out on the floor. All of them resemble my father; from the trailer trash haircut to their beer stained shirts. It’s like walking through a nightmare.

 

Daryl led me through the maze of sleeping men’s bodies.

 

Once outside, Daryl and I sprint to his bike and jump on. The engine starts with a roar, some of the men start shouting from within the house. Daryl hits the gas and we’re off down the street. Back onto the road we’d come from hours ago.

 

“You with me, Blue?” Daryl yells over the engine as he avoids the carnage on the road.

 

“Yeah” I breathe out “You with me?”

 

“Yeah” Daryl chuckles lightly and hits the gas again.

 

The sky is an orangey-purple color mixed with pretty pinks and angry reds. It’s peaceful. Just by looking at it, I could almost forget that only moments ago Daryl and I were playing tug-of-war of fate.

 

The ultimate decision. Live or die.

 

Today, we chose to live.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm typing the second and brainstorming the third.


End file.
